


Charles Dickens Never Had This Much Trouble

by toesohnoes



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-11
Updated: 2011-09-11
Packaged: 2017-10-23 15:50:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/252111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toesohnoes/pseuds/toesohnoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles is trying to write. Erik, however, is trying to distract him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charles Dickens Never Had This Much Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU snippet written at my [Tumblr](http://toestastegood-fic.tumblr.com/post/9924383224/there-are-words-itching-at-the-back-of-his-mind). It was based off of this lovely gif:

There are words itching at the back of his mind and tingling beneath his fingertips, just waiting to be unleashed. Endless stories and a whole world to be built on paper – but they won’t come. They teeter like a half-formed thought, never quite making it over the edge.

“Charles,” Erik purrs from the bed.

Charles doesn’t look up from his typewriter. If he does, he knows he will find Erik lounging naked on the sheets, a cigarette hanging from his lips. That is the kind of sight that ruins good literature: if Charles Dickens had a man like Erik in his bed, he would never have got around to writing a single word.

“I’m writing,” Charles says.

“You’re doing nothing of the sort,” Erik complains. “You’re staring.”

“I’m thinking.” Charles flexes his fingers. The words will start flowing at any moment, he’s sure of it.

“Think over here.” Charles hears the sound of shifting bed-sheets and the springs of the bed creaking as Erik rolls over. “I want to fuck you again,” Erik says, purposefully pitching his voice at the low rumble Charles finds impossible to resist.

His fingers freeze. “Erik, I need to work…”

“I’m sure you’ll work much better with all those endorphins flowing,” Erik suggests. “It might be quite an inspiring experience.”

Charles closes his eyes. Erik is the single most distracting man that he has ever had the misfortune of meeting. He’s going to be the death of his writing.

“Charles…” Erik says again – and this time, with his eyes closed, Charles can hear the fast, slick sound of him touching himself, the heated movement as he starts to jerk himself off.

Erik always plays dirty.

Charles makes the mistake of opening his eyes and looking over his shoulder, treated to a feast of bare skin and sweet sex. His tongue flashes over his lips and he’s on his feet before he has any chance for conscious thought.

The novel will wait.

Erik, quite clearly, will not.


End file.
